Of Bad Apparations and PissedOff Old Men
by Dancing Nightmare
Summary: Harry Potter accidentally apparates himself into 94-year-old Edward Elric’s living room. Edward is not amused by his shenanigans. FMAxHP crossover, post movieverse.


There were many things that Edward Elric had seen, both in this world and in Amestris. Alchemy, rockets crossing dimensions, chimeras, human transmutation, the Truth, the atomic bomb, you name it. He had had so much trouble, adventures and near-death-experiences in his life that he thought it was justified for him to finally settle down, 94 years old, in a small town in Japan – which was exactly what he did.

So, he didn't exactly count on seeing something out of this world again.

Boy was he wrong.

Of all the things that could happen to him now, he had least expected it to be that a bespectacled, robe clad young boy – he couldn't be more than twenty – would appear out of nowhere with a loud crack in the middle of his living room. But that was the exact thing that happened one lazy afternoon.

Said teenage boy fell down on his butt and Edward would have done the same if he wasn't sitting in his rocking chair. Instead he settled for widened eyes and jaw-dropping.

"Ow… where the bloody hell am I?" the boy muttered in a British accent – Edward hadn't heard that in a while – as he rubbed his sore buttocks.

The black-haired boy stood up and looked around himself, then brushed dirt off his robes with a look of annoyance and discomfort spread across his face. He had yet to notice the bewildered man in the rocking chair, something that the bewildered man – not as bewildered anymore as he was irritated, now that he had snapped back to his usual self – intended to change.

"Hey, you!" Ed yelled angrily in English, which got the disorientated teen's attention. He stood up and pointed at the boy with his cane, his golden eyes glinting with an awakened murder instinct. "Who are you and what the hell are you doing in my apartment?!"

If Chuck Norris and Clint Eastwood ever had a 94-year-old lovechild, it would've been Edward.

"Uh, uhm, I…" the boy stuttered.

Ed glared at him, then spotted his hand slowly reaching into his back pocket. The old man was about to tell him to not move, but before he knew it, the youth had quickly pulled out a… stick? Anyway, he had pulled out a stick and pointed it at Ed.

"_Expelliarmus_!" the boy shouted, and it didn't take a genius to figure that he was attacking Edward... somehow.

Ed's right arm acted on instinct and instantly flew up in front of his face to protect him, and he felt _something_ hitting it forcefully, making a disturbing and metallic sound. It jolted his whole body, like if he had been electrified, and he fell down into his rocking chair. He gritted his teeth, trying hard to suppress some colorful curses and a groan – his body wasn't as youthful as it had once been – and then blinked a few times before giving the scared black-haired boy a death glare.

"Oi! What the _fuck _was that?!" Edward snarled and proceeded to get up again.

The nerves in his shoulder that connected to his automail hurt like a bitch and protested against this action. But he had gone through worse pains in his life, so his left hand just clamped down on the shoulder, in an attempt to silence the pain. Damn, that hurt.

The teen looked at him shocked, and whether it was because the attack perhaps had failed or because he realized that he had just attackeda senior citizen, Ed didn't know. Maybe he had heard the man's foul use of words despite Ed's concerned efforts, and was just in shock to hear such an old man say those vulgar things. Either way, Edward couldn't care less, because that bastard had somehow attacked him, and one did _not _attack the Fullmetal Alchemist. Nevermind the fact that he hadn't been called that for nearly seventy-six years; ninety-four or sixteen, it was still a suicide attempt.

"Who the _hell_ do you think you are, brat?" Edward growled and took a step closer, making the boy step back, which resulted in him backing into the wall.

"Uh, I-I'm sorry sir, I didn't mean to attack you, just—just a reflex" the boy said quickly and held his hands up in the air along with the stick.

Ed narrowed his eyes, then snatched the stick from the boy, who was taken by surprise and only managed to utter a "wha—" before Ed hushed him by holding up his cane in a threatening manner. The old man held up the stick to the light and tried to examine it with his bare eyes. He twisted and turned it, held it close to his eyes and far away, but he couldn't find any indications as to how the boy had been able to use it to attack him. At least that was what he suspected, because there hadn't been anything else that the teen could've assaulted him with.

But it was physically impossible for this simple stick to be used to attack him _without _any kind of physical contact. Unless it was a cleverly concealed gun, and Ed didn't think it was, because even if there was newer technology he didn't get, he knew a little something about weapons. Hell, he had been in the military for crying out loud! Two times, in two different worlds! If this wasn't Earth he would've considered alchemy. Though, even if they had been in Amestris, it still wouldn't add up because there was no equivalent exchange.

Of course, teenage boys appearing out of nowhere didn't add up either. But still.

Edward frowned frustrated and just as he was about to snap the stick in half so he could examine it further, the boy decided that now was the time to act.

"Don't!" he said panicky. Ed stopped and looked at him suspiciously.

"Is this stick important to you, boy?" Ed asked and twirled the stick around between his fingers, enjoying the pained looks in the boy's green eyes as he haplessly stared at the stick far too much. He didn't get much entertainment in his life.

"Yes…" the teenager finally replied and bit his lip. He looked hesitant, like he wanted to grab the stick from Ed, but still, he couldn't really hurt an old man. Old age was sometimes useful, bitchy as it was.

"Hm. You didn't answer my first question, by the way…" Edward said, and then jabbed the cane into the boy's torso to keep him in place. Just in case he thought of escaping or something silly like that. "Who are you and what are you doing in my apartment?"

The boy didn't answer. So Ed pressed the cane a little harder into his chest, and gave him the patented Edward "Not a Shrimp" Elric Death Glare™. I said it before, I'll say it again; it didn't matter if he was ninety-four or sixteen years old. He was the goddamn Fullmetal Alchemist. The teen paled and immediately spoke again.

"I'm Harry Potter, sir" he carefully said. "And… er… I don't… I mean, I didn't _mean _to end up… here"

"What do you mean 'I didn't mean to end up here'?" Ed asked, saying the last part in a mocking, high-pitched tone. Being immature sure felt great. "Where did you _mean_ to end up then?"

"Uh, Ho-Hogsmeade Village" Harry Potter quickly said. Ed saw beads of sweat form on his forehead (was that a tattoo or a scar?). Oh joy, this was priceless.

"Where the hell is Hogsmeade Village?"

"Scotland, sir…"

"This is fucking _Japan_, son"

Harry's jaw dropped in surprise, but he quickly shut it again. The wave of anxiety that flashed in his eyes did not pass Edward by. He suddenly felt himself feeling _sorry _for the teenage boy, because in a way, he could sympathize with him. Judging by Harry's accent he was from the United Kingdom, a long way from home, and he was supposed to be in Scotland. He couldn't be older than seventeen. He reminded him of Edward himself. Ed decided to put the cane down, but it was as if his glare was locking Harry to the spot either way.

"Japan?" Harry repeated.

"Japan" Edward confirmed, empathizing his point with a nod.

The teenager looked distressed. Edward raised an eyebrow. Did the boy not know how he got here? Who the hell was _that _stupid? He thought that British people were supposed to be intelligent.

No one was saying anything, and it began to become awkward, so Edward decided to break the silence with a question he really wanted an answer to;

"What is this stick and how did you attack me?" he asked and Harry stiffened. The boy bit his lip and didn't reply, and Edward thought of bringing the cane up again, but then he spoke;

"I… uhm, I can't tell you…" he said. Which wasn't of any help at all. The kid could've in fact held his mouth shut and it wouldn't have made any difference.

"Oh, I'm sure you can" Ed said in a serious tone. "I think that I have a right to know what you did to me, brat. Did you try to kill me?"

"Wha—kill you? No, never!" Harry said baffled.

"But you _did _try to attack me. Either you attack someone to kill them, to defend yourself, or to render them helpless" Ed rattled off, then smirked. "You claim that you didn't want to kill me, I didn't try to attack you, so you tried to render me helpless. But I'm ninety-four years old, and you're a young man. Ain't the sharpest knife in the drawer, are ya, _brat_?"

Harry pursed his lips and looked agitated, and Ed smiled a little, amused by his reaction. He hadn't had this much fun in years. However, the young Brit still hadn't answered his questions, something that needed to be corrected quickly. Ed decided to try to coax the answer out of him by using a different angle.

"What do you know about alchemy?" he firmly asked, but Harry just looked confused. "Hm… guns, then?" He got even a lesser reaction out of him by that. "Equivalent Exchange? No? The Thule Society? Homunculi? The Philosopher's Stone?"

That, Harry reacted to. It was just a split second of eyes widened, eyebrows quirking and muscles tensing, but Edward saw it all and a grin spread across his face.

"Spill" he smirked.

Harry feigned obliviousness. "I don't know what you're talking about"

"The Philosopher's Stone, brat" Edward repeated and smirked even more as he saw the same reaction again. "You know something about that, don't you? So spill what you know, 'cause you ain't going anywhere"

The boy looked troubled and there was a small pause for him to think. It was only because Ed was feeling sympathy for Harry and his location troubles that he even allowed him to mull it over. If he had been young and back again, he would've kicked his ass fifty ways to Sunday, with or without alchemy.

"I've only heard about it in myths and legends," Harry said, obviously bluffing.

Edward lost his patience. "Listen to me, brat—" he snarled but never got to finish as two loud, cracking noises boomed next to him, catching him off guard and drawing his attention away from the black-haired boy.

His golden eyes widened and he stumbled a bit to the side, but quickly caught himself again. To his deep annoyance, yet two more robe-clad people had appeared inside his apartment! He began to suspect that there was more to this than simple alchemy. That or he had become senile.

The two new arrivals was another boy around Harry's age, this one tall and lanky with strikingly red hair, and an older man with thinning, red hair. He looked like he was the father of the boy, but judging by the relieved look in his eyes he got when he saw that the black-haired boy was seemingly unharmed could've very well meant that he was Harry's father too.

"There he is!" the red-haired boy shouted happily in a British accent. "Why the bloody hell aren't you in Hogsmeade, Harry? Mum got really worried, you know"

"I… I think I haven't really gotten a hang of the whole apparition thing, I guess" Harry shrugged, then glanced at the older man. "Mr. Weasley, how did you find me?"

Before the older man – Mr. Weasley – could speak, the boy whom Edward assumed was the man's son spoke. "Dad did some Ministry stuff" he shrugged, then noticed Ed and frowned. "Hey, who is that short ol' bloke?"

Ed felt a vein pop in his forehead and ignored the "short" comment. "I think the question is, who the hell are _you two_?" he said, once again raising his cane.

Mr. Weasley opted wisely to speak before any of the boys could. "I'm Arthur Weasley, and this is my son, Ron" he said politely, then made a small pause, as if he was hesitating. But the hesitation only lasted for a mere second before he curiously added; "That cane of yours… is it by any chance a special muggle weapon? May I have a look?"

That was it.

"I have had _enough_ you idiots popping up into my living room, attacking me, wanting to steal my cane and WHO IS SO OLD AND TINY YOU HAVE TO USE A MICROSCOPE TO SEE HIM?!" Edward fumed, flailing and shouting and generally looking possessed.

All color was drained from the Weasleys' and Harry's faces and the latter seemed to want to be anywhere but here.

When Ed finally calmed down enough for the three invaders to not be so frightened anymore, he spoke again.

"I want some answers. Now. Or I'm gonna fuck you up fifty ways to Sunday" he snarled between gritted teeth.

Ron and Harry glanced at each other and then at Mr. Weasley, who seemed to be in charge here. The red-haired older man made the decision to answer to the elderly man.

"Well, Mr…?" Mr. Weasley began.

"Edward Elric" Edward said shortly, then motioned for him to go on.

"Mr. Elric, of course. Uhm, well, you see…" he said, trailing off at the last part but spoke again when the Elric glared at him. "We're wizards. We entered here through apparition, and by attacking you I presume that Harry must've used magic on you"

Ed raised his eyebrows and scoffed.

"_Magic_? Are you lunatics or something?" he rolled his eyes. "There is no such thing as magic"

But Mr. Weasley was persistent. "Oh, but there is. Look!"

Before Ed could interrupt, Mr. Weasley had said something while pointing another stick at a science book that laid on the table… and it started to levitate. The blonde man felt his jaw drop undignified.

"What… what the hell? What kinda trick is that?" he asked suspiciously once he had gathered himself. This afternoon got weirder and weirder by the moment.

"Not a trick, Mr. Elric; a spell" Mr. Weasley said, more at ease now. He then glanced at Harry, and then switched his gaze towards Ed again. "Mr. Elric, I understand your anger at us trespassing and I assure you that we do not approve of Harry attacking you, but we – all of us three – need to get back from where we came from this instant and we need you to let Harry go for that. And please, do give Harry his wand back" It hadn't gone unnoticed by Mr. Weasley that there was a reason Harry hadn't left yet.

Ed narrowed his eyes. He looked at the floating book, then to Mr. Weasley and the stick/wand he held, and then finally to Harry himself. After a long silence, the old alchemist finally sighed and threw the wand to the bespectacled boy who barely caught it.

"Take it and leave" he grumbled and waved a hand in the direction of the door. "I must be going insane and I'd rather go insane when no one's watching"

Harry hurried to the Weasleys' side. "Thank you?" he said uneasily and got a grin from Ron and a scowl from Edward.

Mr. Weasley seemed to be beaming – Ed didn't know why but he wasn't totally sure whether how he was looking at every single thing in the apartment was good or bad – and was about to say something when his son interrupted him again.

"We'll be going now, okay Dad?" Ron said in an implying tone.

The middle-aged man tore his eyes from a radio in one of the bookcases. "Right, right…" he said and smiled towards Edward. "Thank you for being so understanding, Mr. Elric. Oh, and I almost forgot!"

Ed watched him suspiciously. "What?"

And in a swift moment, Mr. Weasley calmly lifted his wand towards Edward with a smile on his lips, and uttered one single word.

"_Obliviate_"

.

.

.

* * *

  
**A/N: **HARRY IS A VERY DIFFICULT CHARACTER TO WRITE. Jesus Christ, he is so OOC in this story, I'm sorry guys. But anyways. This was a fun story, but it was hastily written, and it was really written for my own sake. I hope you enjoyed reading it though~ And as for why Harry was going to Hogsmeade, well, that's up to you to fill in the blanks. Also, Ron and Harry are 19-20 in this story, since it's 1999 (I did my research, folks!).


End file.
